


I am Half Agony, Half Hope

by hedgehogge



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bottom!Anakin, Eventual Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Gay, Historical Fantasy, Human!Obi-Wan, Lesbian Ahsoka Tano, Multi, Slow Burn, Top!Obi-Wan, Vampire Clans, Vampire Sex, vampire!anakin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23458162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehogge/pseuds/hedgehogge
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the heir to the Sith vampire clan controlling Mustafar and is set to marry the witch Padmé Amidala to combine the Clan and Coven's army against the Jedi in a territorial fight. The two have instant chemistry and the date is set, until human writer Obi-Wan Kenobi tangles himself into vampire politics and finds himself face to face with the vampire prince.ora self-indulgent historical/gothic/vampire au i wrote in quarantine because i wanted to write vampire sex(TM)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	I am Half Agony, Half Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! This is my first fanfic in like three years so please go easy on me! I'd love some feedback on this first chapter as i'm not sure if i want to continue this haha but i'm cooped up at home so why not, y'know?
> 
> i'm genuinely pretty good with historical accuracy but if there's something i miss, or some grammatical thing, please feel free to let me know in the comments!
> 
> alright sinners, enjoy

I

Coruscant, 1788

He cannot form words to describe how utterly breathtaking she is. Her hair, woven with pearls and flowers atop her head shine golden amidst the candlelight, her porcelain skin soft and her aroma like the silence of moonlight. She has her delicate hands resting on her abundance of skirts of deep burgundy, making her skin ever more luminescent and flush.

A tall man stands at her side, his eyes lingering around the room, wavering over the shadows lurking in the corners of the ballroom. He stands in close enough proximity to her that anyone can see he’s her bodyguard for this evening. That would indeed explain the blessed dagger hidden under his jacket. He admired their caution.

Trying to keep his utmost composure, Anakin Skywalker tilts his chin upwards in acknowledgment of her arrival. He’s standing in the center of the dais, hands behind his back respectfully. If his heart still beat in his chest, it would be hammering as her eyes trailed up and down his figure. She returns his greeting with a similar gesture, her eyes flashing and the corners of her lips curling ever so slightly. If he could blush, he would be glowing by now.

When Sidious told Anakin he would be marrying the Witch Padmé Amidala of House Naberrie, he was astonished and outraged. Why couldn’t he marry within the Clan? Why give the Sith Clan’s heir to the Naboo Coven, of all groups? But seeing her now, his anger and annoyance subside into fascination and excitement. He’d heard witches were beautiful with their eternal youth spells, but Padmé was astonishing.

He suddenly became aware of the curls falling into his eyes and the color of his waistcoat. What frivolous and stupid decisions. He should’ve had Tarkin prepare something that brought out the gold in his hair or complimented his unholy red eyes. The navy blue of his waistcoat was supposed to be a ‘pop-of-color’ in contrast to his gold and grey jacket with matching gold pendant but looking upon the Lady, he felt like a common merchant.

“You look as though you’re about to be staked.” Whispered a light voice in his ear. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Ventress, lurking in the shadows as always. He scowled at her briefly as she floated away towards the Viscount Dooku who was looking most uncomfortable as always. Anakin tried to ignore her but worried if Padmé thought as she did. Did he really look that scared?

He held himself a bit higher as she finally reached the dais in the center of the room and curtsied to him, giving him a flirtatious smile. His nerves jumped and he bowed a bit too hastily. She giggled quietly as Sidious stepped around him and grinned at the Lady.

“Ah, my dear Lady Amidala, how wonderful to finally meet you in person.” Sidious nodded graciously as she fell to her knees with the rest of her company before the King. He unfurled a wrinkled claw from underneath his cloak and extended it to the lady on her knees. She took it delicately and placed her lips hesitantly to the ruby ring on his finger. He grinned, a shiver running through Anakin as he watched him take his hand away slowly. He’d known Sidious since he was a human, and yet the Vampire King always seemed to frighten him with his decrepit appearance. He was surprised Lady Amidala didn’t flinch.

“It is an honor to be here, my King.” She answered. Sidious gestured for her to rise. She did slowly, her eyes briefly catching Anakin’s.

“May I present my heir, Prince Anakin Skywalker, of House Palpatine.” Anakin extended his hand, thankful for his steadiness as she reached for him. He pressed his lips delicately to her knuckles, savoring the smell of her blood flowing through her veins and the warmth of her skin.

“My Lady.”

Anakin thought it impossible for the Lady to blush even more but she deepened into crimson and grinned, her teeth sparkling white. He returned it and released her hand. Unlike many people who encountered Sidious, Padmé held her composure like no other he’d seen. Her gaze was steady, her stature professional and her face neutral. Anakin admired her immensely.

Sidious made an excuse to speak with Padmé’s mother, Jobal Naberrie, the leader of the Naboo Coven so that Anakin could ask her to dance. She obliged and he lead her onto the dance floor, her skirts flowing behind her. He could hear her warm heart beating furiously under her breast and almost drowned in the warmth radiating from her slender fingers wrapped around his. The surrounding members of Sidious’s court formed a circle, each whispering to their partner as the orchestra prepared the next song.

Anakin paid them no mind. Anakin and Padmé greeted each other with a bow and a curtsy respectively and raised their palms to one another, a picture of aristocratic grace. The surrounding courtesans watched with interest. Anakin put his arm behind his back and Padmé smiled at him over her shoulder. He nearly faltered when the music began but years of dance lessons kept him steady.

“When father told me of the King’s proposal, I was at first apprehensive,” she began, her voice like bells to his ears. How could someone so mature sound so soft? She changed positions as Anakin held her waist. He cocked an eyebrow at her expression.

“Apprehensive?”

She nodded. “It seemed to me at first that an alliance with your Clan rather than the Jedi could mean war for my Coven. But your King has assured me that affairs with the Jedi have calmed?” He paused, lifting his arm for her to drift under.

He had not expected her to speak immortal politics with him on their first dance. Maybe flirt with him or joke about him being a blood-sucking demon but not Clan politics and affairs. She frowned as they took their positions for the waltz. “You do know of your situation with the Jedi, correct?”

He started a bit, caught off guard. The Jedi and the Sith vampire clans had fought for centuries over Coruscant. The Sith Clan wished to take the city for themselves from the humans whom they deemed mere food for them to survive while the Jedi Clan wished to live in harmony with humans and survived off animal blood.

“Oh, of course I do.” She seemed to relax a bit. “and yes, our Clans have come to an agreement of sorts.”

She raised an eyebrow. “As long as we hunt within our own lands, there shouldn’t be conflict.” He assured her.

She smiled at that. He wasn’t willing to discuss the treaty with an outsider, much less a witch, but he had a feeling she knew of each land’s territory and the consequences of crossing them.

“You needn’t worry, my Lady. Our Clans haven’t had a conflict in nearly a hundred years.” She nodded, looking up into his eyes. He was a good head taller than her and having her frame against his was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He practically melted into her eyes.

“I suppose if a conflict does arise, you’ll have to trust in my Coven’s support, no?” She asked. He considered this. That was mainly why the two were betrothed, although Anakin didn’t want to outright admit it. He knew it was well known that the Sith Clan lacked in numbers compared to their rivals and that if conflict arose, he wasn’t sure they’d win. But the question of their marriage still hung in the air, and it was Anakin’s job to secure the engagement for Sidious so he decided to answer as vague as he could.

“Conflict is highly unlikely, my Lady. I wouldn’t fret.” She sighed, letting him spin her, his arm wrapped around her waist. Her eyes bore into his soul, the chestnut orbs seeing into his very being. Maybe he was under some sort of spell, or maybe she just had that effect on others, but he couldn’t lie to her. He kept his mouth shut as the music ended.

He knew of vampires having mortal lovers before, those who had describing the experience of their warmth being addictive and as the night wore on, Anakin began to understand. He was attracted to her like a moth to flame and she seemed equally glued to him, something that would definitely please Sidious.

As the moon began to dip lower and lower into the sky, Anakin dragged his lady into the hallway outside the ballroom to speak more privately as the party had grown rather rowdy. Their chemistry was instantaneous. She laughed at his jokes, he understood her opinions, and soon the two found themselves alone in the gardens.

“You’re very different than how I imagined, Lady Amidala.” Anakin regretted the comment the minute he let it slip, his eyes fluttering closed as to avoid the awkwardness. But she just giggled at him, her hand covering her mouth slightly. He loved her laugh. He wanted to make her laugh forever.

“How so?”

“Well, I-uh…” he struggled with a chuckle. “I imagined you to be wicked and power hungry to be honest.” She full on laughed this time, throwing her head back, allowing her curls to shake against her back.

“Truly?” He shook his head, grinning awkwardly.

“I mean, why else agree to an alliance with the Sith?” She calmed and smiled at him lazily.

“You aren’t so bad, your highness.”

“Oh just-just Anakin, please.” He said.

Her cheeks flushed a bit more as she unconsciously leaned closer to him.

“Alright then,” she leaned in to whisper, “Anakin.”

Their eyes met under the moonlight and in that moment the decision was finalized;

The Sith Vampire Clan of Mustafar would be allied with the Naboo Coven of Theed before the end of the season.

* * *

Wiping the dripping sweat off his brow, Obi-Wan Kenobi laid the parchment delicately into the press and began to twist the wheel. The print shop in Lower Coruscant was hot in the afternoon sun and Obi-Wan and Cody were covered up to their elbows with ink. Despite the heat and the ink, the two hummed in unison an old Coruscanti tune, printing paper after paper. Obi-Wan enjoyed this type of work, getting his hands dirty.

He’d grown up in the countryside, tending to his families farm and found it a good, honest way of spending his time. It wasn’t exactly what he’d thought he’d be doing when he decided to move to Coruscant to pursue his writing career but he wasn’t complaining. Everyone started somewhere, after all. Cody, a tall, square jawed man Obi-Wan liked to consider his best friend looked up towards the entrance and whistled.

“Afternoon, Gentlemen!” Called a voice. Obi-Wan looked up to see Duchess Satine Kryze peaking out over the large stack of pamphlets, waving a hand. He smiled, his heartbeat picking up. She was dressed in trousers as per usual and her long blonde hair was swept up underneath her cap but she was still beautiful to Obi-Wan.

“Ah, Duchess Satine, come to check on your manuscript, have we?” Asked Cody. Satine smiled, pushing her way into the shop and pulling up a stool beside Obi-Wan. Her proximity didn’t help the flush to his cheeks.

“Is it not enough to come down and see you two?” She asked. Obi-Wan grinned at her, pulling the finished parchment off the press and adding it to his stack.

“Oh but what are we to you, Duchess?” He asked, pushing his hair back. “Two lowly men, covered in grime -“

“Well I find grime charming, Mr. Kenobi.“ she said with a wink. Obi-Wan gave a huff of a laugh and hoped to the Gods that the heat explained his blush. He could almost feel Cody groan behind him. It wasn’t really a secret that he fancied Satine, and Cody had about had it with their flirting.

“If you find grime charming, Duchess, then perhaps you should check by the river. I hear many ‘charming’ young men are about this time of day.” Obi-Wan teased.

“Surprised you haven’t joined them.” She returned.

He smiled, grabbing another piece of paper. “Although, if I may, have you begun printing my manuscript?”

Cody grinned, holding up a bundle of papers that were previously on his desk. “Was preparing to send you the first draft tomorrow morning, Duchess.”

Duchess Satine was at a disadvantage in this society purely because of what lay between her legs. She adored politics and debate and with the current climate, she wished to tell others her opinions and manifestos, so she’d drafted a manuscript under the name ’S. Korkie’. Obi-Wan’s attraction to her had begun the day she’d appeared on their doorstep, dressed as a man, proposing her draft to them. Now he considered her a good friend and she got along well with Cody. It’s not like her household noticed her absence, anyways.

“Wonderful, Cody, thank you!” She shimmied around the crates of supplies and the printing press, her slacks providing her more movement than her gowns would’ve and she collected her manuscript with glee. “How quickly can it be published?”

Obi-Wan sat on the unoccupied stool and crossed his legs. “That we have yet to determine.” He explained. He saw disappointment flicker over her face. “We have to get it approved by our supervisor, now that it’s printed.”

She groaned. “It’s already been four months, isn’t Cody’s approval enough?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Cody has the authority to print it so it can be distributed on the streets, perhaps, but a place in the paper requires permission from even higher up.”

“Thanks for the faith though, Duchess.” Smiled Cody, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She sighed, making her way towards the door.

“Well, I suppose I can wait a little while longer.” She bit her lip and Obi-Wan felt for her. His own draft hadn’t even been finalized, let alone sent to review by Cody. At least she seemed more organized with her thoughts.

He wasn’t sure his draft would ever be finished, if he were being honest. It was said writers write of their own experiences, and Obi-Wan had very little outside of the farm and the print shop. His story was supposed to be a dashing tale of a young knight but the story had come to a halt when it came to the princess. He didn’t really know how to even begin writing romance.

He just had to fall in love, he supposed.

“Well, Bo-Katan will be wondering where I’ve slipped off to.” Sighed Satine, dragging Obi-Wan from his mind. He smiled at her.

“It was wonderful seeing you, as always Duchess.” He bowed his head in her direction which earned him a grin and a giggle.

“As to you, Mr. Kenobi,” she looked towards Cody. “And Master Cody.”

Cody gave her a similar nod and she waved her delicate fingers as she flittered out the door. Once it had shut behind her, the bell ringing above it, Obi-Wan leaned his head back with a loud sigh.

Cody gave him a look. “Not this again.”

“She gets more beautiful each time I see her, Cody.” Mused Obi-Wan, running a dirtied hand down his face.

Cody shook his head and returned to work, mumbling about ‘stupid crushes’. Cody was right, though he hated to admit it. It would never work out between them, it couldn’t. Society had it’s hierarchy and no matter what he became, Satine would always be a Duchess, recognized by the King and he would stay in the middle class. She would be shamed, her reputation ruined if he even called on her or tried to court her. But that couldn’t stop his heart from calling after her in agony.

At this rate, he’d never be able to write his love story.


End file.
